


Lost Moon

by laudatenium



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Apollo 13 - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laudatenium/pseuds/laudatenium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people are confused by jargon.  Others find it soothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 890fifth’s Round Twelve. (First challenge, ha ha!) Inspired by how much the jargon in the movie Apollo 13 calms me down. (Psst, it’s also the 45th anniversary of the mission, so there’s that.)
> 
> Just some tiny unrepentant fluff.

Being a genius was always an excuse to be a bit eccentric.  Being a billionaire just meant that it was more acceptable.

 

So it was never received with _too much_ surprise when he declared that he would _not_ be waiting for the car to take him to his private jet, but instead taking the suit straight home from the meeting in Stockholm.  Pepper just huffed and went about packing her briefcase.

 

They’d been in Europe for nine days, trying to get as much business in as possible, and every moment away had been almost agonizing.  All it was doing was enforcing how much he missed the rest of the team, with their odd hours and emotionally stunted quirks.  And how much he missed a certain supersoldier taking up space in his workshop, and heart, if he ever cared to admit it.

 

It was three A.M. when Tony got back to Manhattan.

 

“Good.  You’re back.”  Clint was sitting on the ledge of the landing platform, feet dangling over the faintly buzzing city.  There was a nearly empty bowl of popcorn next to him and a sling shot in his hand.  Every time he came across an unpopped kernel, he loaded it and launched it into the night.

 

“You’re gonna kill someone one of these days, Barton.”

 

“Already done.”  Clint smiled wryly.  “Steve’s been a sad sack the entire time you’ve been gone, so go in there and stop him from moping.”

 

“Stop trying to kill the pigeons,” Tony ordered as he stepped off the platform when the last of the armor was removed and stared for the door, tamping down on the spike of pleasure that came whenever the idea of Steve came up.

 

“They’re my competition!” Clint shouted, and Tony felt the dull sting in his calf of a popcorn kernel.

 

The common living room was bathed in the blue light of the wide screen and the golden glow from the kitchen.

 

Steve was on the couch, wrapped firmly in a pilled red fleece blanket, listed to the side and dead to the world.  He was so peaceful in sleep, like the young guy he actually was if you ignored war and ice.

 

On the screen, a sweaty man with a comb-over was explaining to a room filled with men in shirtsleeves that someone had to make the duct-tape covered box that he had just plonked down on the antiquated computer console.

 

_“Alright Aquarius, this is Houston, do you have a flight plan up there?”_

 

The scene shifted to Tom Hanks, Kevin Bacon, and some other guy in white fight suits floating in zero gravity.

_“Affirmative, Andy; Jack’s got one right here.”_

_“Okay, we have, uh, an unusual procedure for you right here.  We need you to rip the cover off.”_

_“They want you to rip the cover off the fight plan.”_

Kevin Bacon snorted. _“With pleasure.”_

 

“Whatcha watchin’, Steve?”

 

“Tony,” Steve looked up, bleary-eyed, the impression of the whip stitch on the edge of the blanket zigzagging across his face.  He smiled, big and open and like Tony had made the world a better place by being there.  All the dirty looks he had gotten vanished, replaced by that ever-growing pull between utter contentment and desperate longing.

 

Mission Control was rattling off some procedure for adapting an oxygen canister to the LEM.  “Apollo 13?” he asks as he sat down next to Steve.  Not _too_ close.  But close enough to be in the aura of warmth that Steve radiated.

 

“Yeah.”  Steve wiped a hand across his face, blinking rapidly, obviously trying to wake himself.  “I was –“ he yawned wide, ridges on the roof of his mouth visible.  “Sorry.  I was looking more into the space program, and got Lovell’s book, and well, it’s a pretty good movie.”

 

“You’ve already watched it?”  Tony knew all about Steve’s almost childish enthusiasm over the Apollo program.  The idea that man had left Earth was an astounding concept for Steve (even though the man lived with an alien prince from another galaxy), and was convinced Apollo 11 was one of the greatest events in American history.

 

Tony, of course, had leapt on Steve’s enthusiasm, buying him books and organizing a private tour of the Smithsonian’s Air and Space for him.  Tony also had plans for taking Steve to Cape Canaveral, and Johnson Space Center, and the entire Ohio Aviation Heritage Trail, but they were just ideas sitting in a folder, because Tony wanted to take Steve, not the Avengers, who would most certainly get them kicked out for climbing things, and they couldn’t go alone, because how would it look, two men on cheesy vacations together?

 

Steve wouldn’t care what the media said, but Tony would.  Because he couldn’t stand the idea of people thinking they were together when they weren’t.

 

“Has he already watched it?” Clint taunted from the sliding glass door.  “Cap has watched it _every_ _night_ since you left.”

 

Steve frowned, eyebrows scrunching together.  “Mind your own business, Barton,” he mumbled as he burrowed into his fleece cocoon.

 

Clint shrugged, heading into the kitchen to put the popcorn bowl away before saluting lazily and getting in the elevator.

 

“Why do _you_ like it?  It’s not exactly accessible.”  The jargon alone turned people off, even though the majority of the transmissions came from the mission logs.  Of the movie science Tony had seen over the years, Apollo 13 was one of the best attempts.  But not many people could understand gimbals and re-entry angles.

 

“I just . . . _do_ ,” Steve looked at him, blue eyes pale and huge in the dark and Tony couldn’t breathe.  “Is that a bad thing?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

Dreams of a shower and bed forgotten, Tony settled in for the rest of the movie.  Steve shifted about for a few moments before resting less than a foot from Tony, head angled so his hot breath flooded over his neck.

 

It would be so easy to move slightly to the left and steal something he so desperately wanted.

 

Steve slept through the rest of the movie as Houston was able to squeeze the last few Amps out of the batteries and get the astronauts home.  Steve jolted a bit at the blast of noise that came with Odyssey’s safe arrival, but showed signs of drifting off again, so Tony had JARVIS cut the movie off.

 

They sat in the sudden silent darkness, Steve trying to wake himself, Tony trying to restrain himself from launching himself into Steve’s lap.

 

“I’m glad you’re home,” Steve said quietly.

 

Tony was suddenly exhausted.  “Why?” he asked wearily, not wanting an answer.

 

“I missed you.”  And Tony wanted to scream.

 

 _Why_ did it have to be like this?  Why did he have to swear off all things that might make him happy just so he could be a hero?  Why did something he never thought he would find have to be plopped right next to him, so close but miles away?

 

Steve breathed deeply, like he was bracing himself for something.  “Do you know why I like it so much?”

 

“No I don’t, Steve.  Why don’t you tell me?” Tony snapped, turning towards Steve.

 

And Steve was barely an inch from his face.

 

“Their jargon reminds me of you,” Steve whispered, breath fanning over Tony’s face.  “It helps me sleep.  It calms me down.  Makes me think you’re here.”

 

“Steve – “ Tony pleaded, wanting to know where this was going, before it went too far and broke him.

 

Steve kissed him.

 

Soft, light, everything Tony had dreamed kissing Steve would be like, but with the added feeling of the  way Steve’s throat worked when Tony put his hand there, and when did that happen?

 

Tony pushed forward, wrapping Steve’s arms around himself, snuggling deep into Steve’s grip, and Steve hummed and pulled him closer.

 

All the hesitancy was gone, leaving nothing but lethargic intent.  One kiss turned to ten turned to however many, making it just one long sequence of Steve and Tony, taking soft affection and taking their time.

 

There was time now, Tony thought giddily.  Time for the two of them, together.

 

“You know,” Tony found himself saying after a while, “if you like the jargon so much, I can set up a live feed to the design labs downstairs.  If you want.”

 

“Mmmm,” Steve hummed as he pulled Tony deeper into his embrace, resting his chin on Tony’s shoulder.  “Rather listen to you.”

 

“Okay, I’m taking you to Cape Canaveral.  And Houston.  I’ll get you a little orange flight suit and everything.”

 

“Blue,” Steve rumbled from deep in his chest.

 

“Blue, then.  NASA’d probably trip over themselves to let you do whatever you wanted.  Probably in exchange for a photo call.  Captain America showing support for the space program would probably get them some much-needed funding –“

 

“Tony?”

 

“Mmmm?”

 

Steve looked up, eyes bright through the haze of sleep.  “Hush,” he smiled.

 

Tony frowned.  “Thought you liked my babble.”

 

“Not when I could be doing this,” and Steve pressed his mouth to Tony’s again.

**Author's Note:**

> Now I want to write an AU where Steve is an astronaut chosen for his humility like Armstrong, and Tony is the guy who designs spaceships. Stupid me.
> 
> UPDATE: I have decided to write the astronaut AU. Someday. I need to do adequate research, and the BB. It took me a while to figure out a base plot regarding why Steve would be an astronaut, as the US space program is quickly being scrapped (manned flight at least), but I figured something out. It will be futuristic space travel (my guess is 30-60 years in the future) and deal with asteroid mining. And of course, pining after breakups. And memories of sex in zero gravity. Because that's how I roll.
> 
> And go [here](http://stitchlock.tumblr.com/post/121760120672/astronaut-steve-rogers-and-ground-control-tony), to see the FANTASTIC comic stitchy made, sort of inspired by this. Even though it's like a hundred times more amazing.


End file.
